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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28641846">teach me how to</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamsangi/pseuds/kamsangi'>kamsangi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stray Kids (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom Bang Chan, Can be read as set within canon, Chan and Felix roleplaying as girls, Crossdressing Kink, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Feminization, Genderplay, Gratuitous use of the words 'baby girl', Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Tagging the following for technicality's sake:, Top Lee Felix (Stray Kids)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:42:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28641846</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamsangi/pseuds/kamsangi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Look,” Felix repeats, resting his cheek against Chan’s. “We make such good girls, don’t we?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Chan says, voice a little hoarse, thoughts a total fucking wreck in his head, “yeah we do, baby girl.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bang Chan/Lee Felix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>260</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>teach me how to</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this one goes out to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/betheproof/pseuds/betheproof">lina</a> for letting me bring this up for multiple days in a row and torturing us both during my own working hours <i>while in the office</i> and for generously dropping outfit references for these two.</p><p>inspired by a tweet i saw (it's been privated since so i can't link it, sob), <a href="https://imgur.com/PNiuMc1">this</a> specific skirt for chan, <a href="https://imgur.com/Dp0G2Dr">this</a> fit for felix, etc. fill in the rest with your own imagination (always more fun).</p><p>enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Felix’s fingers are steady but gentle, holding his chin in place.</p><p>“Stay still,” he murmurs, and Chan listens obediently, hands in his lap and face tilted up as Felix carefully glides the little applicator over his lower lip. Careful, meticulous, the same way he’d been as he did Chan’s eyes with the little pencil he’d stolen off a stylist, the same way he’d been as he dusted over Chan’s cheeks with something light, something warm, something pink. Felix doesn’t do his make-up often, but whenever he does, he’s always so attentive. His bright eyes dart over Chan’s face, studying his work as he turns Chan’s chin slightly. “Done, I think,” he declares, and he lets go, finally sitting back on the bed.</p><p>Chan smacks his lips together, resisting the urge to lick at them. The gloss is thick and peach-flavoured, sweet and sugary. “How’s it look?” he asks, his lips sticking as he speaks, plump with product and heavy with the trepidation of whatever’s next.</p><p>“I can’t tell from here,” Felix says, crossing his legs at the knee. His skirt rides up past mid-thigh as he leans back on the heels of his palms. “Maybe you should stand up. Let me get a better look, huh?”</p><p>He almost doesn’t want to. The embarrassment sinks in, the ridiculousness of the situation he’s been put in—that, really, he’s put <em>himself</em> into—crashes into him like an eighteen-wheeler. Letting Felix look at him like this. At him, in all of this.</p><p>“Please,” Felix says, eyes big and earnest. “Please, Chris, lemme see you.”</p><p>Chan has never been able to say no to him.</p><p>He pushes up off the bed and takes a step, and another, and one more. Slowly, he turns to face Felix again, and resists the urge to fold his arms around his middle, right below where his top ends to show off miles and miles of pale, exposed skin. It’s not like he’s never worn something cropped before, but—it feels different, like this. It feels different when he’s wearing it for Felix. For himself, like this.</p><p>Absently, Chan rubs at the back of his neck, feeling awkward about having all the attention in the room be on him. It’s just Felix, but, still. He’s never done this before. He finally lets his gaze flick up towards the bed where Felix is sitting.</p><p>Felix is staring at him with his mouth open.</p><p>Chan’s ears burn. “Talk to me,” he says. “Do I look stupid in this?”</p><p>“No,” Felix says, sounding slightly indignant. “No, shit, you look—you look so good.” He bites his lip, and shifts closer to the edge of the bed, setting both his feet back down on the floor. “C’mere,” he says, voice low, and Chan moves immediately, stepping towards him without a second thought.</p><p>He’s met by the warmth of Felix’s arms wrapping around his waist, tugging him in to stand between his knees. Felix nuzzles at Chan’s stomach like a kitten, and nips lightly at the hem of the skirt that comes up high on his waist. He’s so sweet. So soft, so pretty in the knitted cream sweater that he’d gotten to take home after one of their photoshoots, the sweater that looks so big and so comfortable on him. Chan lightly combs his fingers through the back of Felix’s hair, feeling the tension drain from his own shoulders as he lets Felix’s steady presence ground him.</p><p>Felix kisses a spot along his ribs, leaving the tiniest little imprint in lipstick. “You’re so hot,” he whispers, breath warm against his skin, “you look so good in this. The hottest girlfriend I could ever ask for.”</p><p>There it is. Chan shivers, fingers flexing minutely against the nape of Felix’s neck. “Yeah?” he says. “Well, you bought it all for me.”</p><p>“I did,” Felix agrees, “and you’re wearing it all.”</p><p>Chan exhales. “God. But, you—You look so pretty, Felix.”</p><p>“You think so?” Felix glances up at him through long, painted lashes. He’s not just pretty. He’s beautiful. Hair brushed to one side, lips a stained cherry red, a hint of glitter smudged along the corners of his eyes. Chan lucked out with him.</p><p>“Yeah,” Chan says, voice soft. “Yeah, I do, babe.”</p><p>Felix slips off the bed, and tugs Chan over to where their full length mirror is, hands in his. “Look,” Felix says, tugging him close. “Look at us.”</p><p>Chan lets his gaze follow Felix’s, and he looks.</p><p>Felix, in his sweater and little pleated skirt. Felix, in his pastel knee-high socks that make him look younger, sweeter. Felix, both arms around Chan’s waist—Chan, in his short-sleeved shirt cropped off above his midsection. The skirt that’s slitted across the tops of his thighs, tight around his hips and his ass. He’s hyperaware of the fishnet stockings hugging his legs and disappearing up into his skirt, the criss-cross of nylon drawn snugly across his skin.</p><p>A kiss to his neck, and another, and another. Felix sucks at the skin under his jaw, and lets one hand skim down his back until he’s got a handful of Chan’s ass, squeezing shamelessly. Chan makes a little noise in the back of his throat, exhaling through his nose. He meets his own surprised gaze in the mirror, and feels his breath crawl up his throat in a strange, jarring mix of coyness and arousal. That’s him in the mirror, in those clothes, with that plush, glossy mouth and those soft eyes.</p><p>He looks good.</p><p>“You’re looking,” Felix says, and he straightens back up, leaning in to brush his nose along the line of Chan’s cheek. “Good.”</p><p>Chan turns his face and meets his mouth in a proper kiss, slick and familiar. He feels Felix’s warm palms slide up and down his back, pushing up past the hem of his top to grasp at his shoulders, digging his nails in lightly before dragging his fingertips back down. His tongue is eager, licking at Chan’s lips like there’s nothing he wants more than to taste the summery sweetness of Chan’s gloss, to get it all off just so he has an excuse to put more on Chan.</p><p>Felix’s skirt is looser around his thighs compared to Chan’s. Chan swallows the pleased noise that Felix makes when he bunches the fabric of his skirt in his fists and tugs him in close, close enough for their hips to meet.</p><p>His dick stirs, more than interested in the abrupt lack of proximity, in the feeling of pretending to be something he’s not, in having Felix kiss him like he’s everything he’s ever had, everything he’s ever known. But—the shame burns high in his cheeks again when he remembers that Felix had told him to wear just this. This, and nothing else.</p><p>They grind against each other as they continue to kiss, hands on hips and waists and backs. Chan’s dick begins to thicken within the drag of his fishnets, straining up against the already tight constraints of the skirt. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror again, skirt visibly tented. It looks absolutely obscene. Chan can’t tear his eyes away.</p><p>“Look,” Felix repeats, something mischievous on his lips as he pulls back, resting his cheek against Chan’s, directing him to face the mirror completely. “We make such good girls, don’t we?”</p><p>Two girls, standing in the middle of their room, hands all over each other, dicks hard in their skirts.</p><p>“Yeah,” Chan says, voice a little hoarse, thoughts a total fucking wreck in his head, “yeah we do, baby girl.”</p><p>This time, Felix is the one whose cheeks heat up at the pet name.</p><p>Chan tilts his head, pressing a sticky kiss to the corner of Felix’s mouth. “You like that, huh?” he murmurs. Felix makes a soft, sweet noise in the back of his throat, and presses himself closer to kiss Chan again, looking just as needy and just as wanting as Chan feels. He wants to kiss Felix like this forever. Hold him undeniably close, arms secure around him, never let him go. “Felix.”</p><p>Felix pulls back, and rubs at the side of Chan’s mouth where his lip-gloss must have smeared. “Bed,” he whispers, and Chan obeys, tugging him back towards their bed, knees knocking together with each step, both of them unwilling to let go of each other. Chan falls back onto the bed, pushes himself further up it as Felix clambers into his lap, knees on either side of Chan’s thighs. Their mouths meet again, a little more desperate, a little sloppier. Chan loves when they kiss like this. It’s always a no-brakes, one-way street to getting him just the right side of turned on whenever Felix licks at his teeth and mouths at his tongue and slides his uncoordinated, wandering hands up Chan’s front. “Fuck,” Felix whispers, eyes squeezed shut as he grinds down against Chan, “fuck, you’re so—”</p><p>Beneath his shirt, his thumbs press into Chan’s nipples, rolling back and forth over them until Chan’s cock throbs. It always feels so good when Felix touches him there, where he’s most sensitive, where the pleasure always shoots straight down his spine until he’s arching up into Felix’s fingers. It’s not the same when he’s playing with them himself. It always feels better with Felix.</p><p>Everything’s better with Felix, all the time.</p><p>Then, Felix cups his hands around Chan’s chest and squeezes, murmuring, “I love your tits so much.”</p><p>“Oh my god,” Chan says, flushed and embarrassed. “Felix.”</p><p>“Seriously. They’re so big. So fucking perfect.” Felix kisses Chan again, nipping at his lip before pulling back with a sigh. “My big tiddy goth girlfriend.”</p><p>Chan closes his eyes. “Felix Lee,” he says flatly, and Felix is already snickering, face hidden against Chan’s shoulder, “call me that one more time and I’m kicking you out of this bed.”</p><p>He’s absolutely awful. Chan hopes he never stops.</p><p>Felix finally stops giggling to run his hands down Chan’s back this time instead, hands resting along the curve of his ass. “You wouldn’t,” he says, eyes knowing, “not before I eat you out.”</p><p>Chan’s stomach flips. “Fuck,” he croaks, heart in his throat, and he can tell that Felix knows he’s got him, <em>“Felix.”</em></p><p>“Yeah,” Felix says, diving in for another kiss, and Chan tugs him close, suddenly feeling far too warm under his own skin, “yeah, fuck, you have no fucking idea—wanna eat you out so good—”</p><p>They’re wearing too many clothes. Felix is wearing too many clothes, he needs to take them off now. Right now. Chan paws at the hem of his too-thick sweater, tugs until Felix complies, pushes it off him until it’s dropping to the floor, forgotten in their haste to acquire skin-to-skin contact—and Chan loses his breath in a single instant when he finally gets a look at Felix without his sweater on.</p><p>Thin black straps running down his shoulders. Delicate, floral lace, the palest shade of pink he’s ever seen stretched across Felix’s chest, hugging the shape of him perfectly. Felix rolls his shoulders back, head tilted, a shy smile scrawled across his face. The outline of his dark nipples are completely visible through the sheer bralette.</p><p>Chan’s mouth waters. He’s seen Felix in lingerie before, of course he has, but it always feels brand new and stunning to him in a way he can’t ever get over. He never wants to be over this.</p><p>Felix lets Chan run his hands up along his sides, until his thumbs are hooking under the little lace hem of the bralette, gently tugging up and letting them snap back against his skin. Chan knows he loves the attention he gets from this, loves when Chan gets single-minded and focused on him like this. There’s a minute hitch in Felix’s breath when Chan rubs at his nipples through the fabric the way he knows Felix likes it. He also knows Felix likes it when he does this—ducks down and mouths at one through the layer of lace, wetting and laving lovingly over it until Felix is grabbing at Chan’s hair with a whine, tugging his mouth onto the other one for more of the same. Chan sucks at him, rolls the tip of his tongue along his pebbled skin, groans when Felix’s grip gets even tighter in his hair. “So cute,” Chan whispers against him, “your tits are so cute,” and Felix’s face is a deep shade of pink across the surfeit of his sun-kissed freckles despite the way he’s been carrying himself the entire evening, confident and in charge. “I love them.”</p><p>“Love you,” Felix says, running his hands down Chan’s neck, his shoulders, his back, and Chan repeats the words back to him, only him, always him. His baby girl. “Love you, love you so much. Please—I really wanna, can I—”</p><p>“Yeah,” Chan says, shuffling back on the bed to let them rearrange themselves. “C’mon.”</p><p>Felix gets Chan to face the headboard, leaning down on his hands and knees, ass up in the air. Chan’s already flushed just being in this position, just letting Felix kneel behind him, hands travelling up and down his thighs in soothing motions. “You’re so hot,” Felix tells him, pushing the back of his skirt up to let the cool air hit his skin. “Fuck. Wanna lick your cunt like a shotglass.”</p><p>The words jerk Chan’s entire consciousness into motion, but he doesn’t get to recover even for a second, because the very next moment, Felix is curling his fingers into the nylon of his tights and <em>ripping them apart</em> down the back, right where Chan’s—</p><p>His entire body seizes up, the most visceral reaction he’s ever had to Felix doing anything. <em>“Fuck,”</em> Chan groans, stomach fallen straight through the floor. It’s already too much. He’s so fucking hard he’s leaking through his fucking skirt. “Oh my god—<em>Felix.”</em></p><p>Felix’s breath is warm against his skin, his fingers firm as they rub along the inside of his cheeks, along his perineum. Chan’s already trembling, arms threatening to give out as Felix’s tongue traces along his rim, feather-light and teasing. He always starts like this with these too-soft touches that aren’t ever enough, working Chan up into a frenzy until he’s begging for it—but it’s even worse this time with the way Felix is treating him. Like he’s a girl getting eaten out.</p><p>His tongue pushes into Chan, hot and wet and sloppy. Chan can feel the drool drip down the inside of his thighs and the back of his balls. The lines of his fishnets stretch and pull at his skin as his knees dig into the sheets, hips bucking back into Felix’s mouth. The sting of it makes him pant, the most mortifying noises falling one after the other from his lips without him meaning to. “You’re so wet,” Felix says, words slurry and muffled, “love it when you get all wet for me. Can’t wait to ride your strap next time.”</p><p>Chan’s voice breaks down the middle of a moan, high-pitched and garbled. It’s all he can think about. Felix bouncing on Chan’s cock, tight and hot around him. Except, the image starts to shift in his mind, vivid and sudden—Felix is rocking back on a dildo instead, strapped to a harness around Chan’s hips. “Fuck,” he says, voice so fucking shaky he almost can’t speak, overwhelmed with it, “please.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Felix breathes, “look at you, look how messy you got your skirt.” Chan hears the pop of a cap, and then he’s clenching down around one of Felix’s fingers without hesitation. “It’s all ruined. I guess I gotta buy you more pretty things to wear, huh? You want that?”</p><p>Chan whimpers, hiding his face between his forearms, fingers digging into the sheets in embarrassment. “Yes,” he whispers, burning up with it, with how turned on he is, how shy he’s feeling, how exposed he is with his ass up in the air and Felix touching him like this, no reservations. He could come just like this if Felix let him. “Please. Want it. Want you.”</p><p>“Tell me what you want.”</p><p>“Want you to touch me, baby.” The words keep coming without Chan even registering them properly, mind lost to a haze of <em>wantwantwant</em> and <em>Felix,</em> just babbling without holding anything back, “Touch my clit. Please, please. Need it so bad, baby girl, please, m’gonna—”</p><p>He’s cut off by his own moan, Felix’s fingers tightening on his hip so hard it feels like it’s going to bruise in seconds. He hopes it does. Felix’s voice sounds just as wrecked as Chan’s. “You’re incredible,” he says, “fuck. Turn over.”</p><p>Chan’s never moved quicker in his life, pushing himself back up and flipping onto his back before Felix can even tug at him to move. Felix makes the most distraught noise he’s ever heard in his life when Chan hooks his hands under his knees and tugs them up to his chest without even being told to. Chan doesn’t know what he looks like right now, but with the way Felix is staring at him with the hungriest look in his eyes he’s ever seen, it’s probably a lot.</p><p>And then, Felix is shoving Chan’s skirt up until it’s bunched up around his hips, tugging his fishnets down until they’re down around his thighs, leaning in to fit his soft, pretty mouth around the head of Chan’s freed cock. “Love your clit,” Felix mumbles between little, kittenish licks and the push-pull of his small fingers inside him, “you always taste so good—wanna lick you out like this all the time—” and Chan’s overheating, struggling to stay afloat, pleasure building and climbing until all he knows is the way Felix’s lips feel around him, the way his tongue swirls in concentric little circles until Chan bursts at the seams and falls apart.</p><p>He comes without warning, toes curling up so hard they start to cramp immediately after, come spilling across the front of his skirt and Felix’s lips. It’s heady and intense and makes Chan feel like he’s being pulled in a dozen different directions at once. He loves it, loves feeling like this, he loves Felix—loves him so, so much.</p><p>Chan’s brought back into existence by the feeling of Felix’s thick, hot length grinding up against his ass. “Chris,” Felix wheedles, and Chan reaches for him, tugs him down and wraps his legs around his waist to pull him close, tastes himself on Felix’s tongue when he draws him into a kiss. Felix melts the moment Chan wraps a hand around his cock, just milking the head of it with the tight circle of his fingers.</p><p>“M’not the only one who’s wet,” Chan murmurs, licking under Felix’s jaw, biting at his skin until Felix is shivering and moaning and writhing in his grasp, “c’mon, baby girl—wanna see you come.”</p><p>He knows Felix is close when his mouth falls open and his eyebrows pull together, and Chan keeps his eyes open as he kisses Felix through it, wanting to commit his expression to his never-ending bank of memories of every experience he’s ever shared with Felix. Amazing, beautiful Felix, who rocks into his grip and and whispers his name in the most reverent voice, who shudders as he comes and grabs at Chan’s hand to lace their fingers together.</p><p>It’s almost too much and not enough all in one. Chan’s completely spent, but he doesn’t deny Felix when he shifts close to kiss him. Lazy, gentle kisses, traded back and forth until they both get too tired to carry on, until Chan is nudging at Felix to get onto his side so that they can wriggle out of the rest of their clothes and tuck each other close again.</p><p>After, Felix rolls into Chan’s arms, smushes his face against Chan’s bare chest, and whispers teasingly, “Best girlfriend.”</p><p>Chan kisses his hair fondly. <em>Nah,</em> he thinks. That title definitely belongs to Felix.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="http://twitter.com/SSEOMT">twitter</a> | <a href="http://curiouscat.me/SSEOMT">cc</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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